Drabblings of a Time Lord
by Calapine
Summary: An assortment of drabbles, featuring various incarnations of the good Doctor.
1. Way of Life

A/N: An assortment of drabbles; many themes, many Doctors. Most were originally written for the LJ dw100 community.  
  
Way of Life  
  
At the sound of an explosion Romana ran into the TARDIS.  
  
"Stay back!" shouted a booming voice.  
  
"Doctor! What's happened?"  
  
His head appeared around the door, eyes bulging.  
  
"Romana," he declared. "It is the end. My entire way of life is over!"  
  
"Oh no!"  
  
"Oh yes!" he insisted. "Nothing will ever be the same again!"  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
The Doctor nodded miserably.  
  
"Look!"  
  
He held up the tattered remains of his scarf.  
  
Romana raised one elegant eyebrow, and said, "You do realise there are hundreds more in the TARDIS wardrobe."  
  
The Doctor blinked. "Oh."  
  
There was an awkward pause.  
  
"Jellybaby?" 


	2. Unapologetic

Unapologetic  
  
He would never admit it, but he didn't actually like his new coat. Still, every time he put it on, a smile played on his lips as he committed his little act of rebellion against his former selves.  
  
He remembered with disgust the random muted colours; the neat way that he could always fade effortlessly into the background; his former self, and his cricket whites.  
  
So he would wear this coat that clashed with everything, because he was the Doctor, and he saved the universe, and he wanted to be acknowledged.  
  
He wasn't going to apologise for being a hero. 


	3. Balances

Balances  
  
He knew that he forgot sometimes.  
  
And now he had two travelling with them. And he snapped and fretted and scowled because he was afraid that he couldn't protect them. That he'd forget to protect them.  
  
They were so fragile. So terribly mortal. Too much heat and they'd burn up; too little and they'd freeze. Too much water and they'd drown; too little and they'd dehydrate.  
  
Too little knowledge of the universe to appreciate its dangers.  
  
Too much confidence in assuming that they know best.  
  
Too much curiosity, but that he could understand.  
  
Except, of course, when he forgot. 


	4. Envy

Envy (of the Master)  
  
I envy you your courage, Doctor.  
  
I envy you your ability to trust.  
  
They are primitives, so uncertain of themselves, and yet you have such certainty in them.  
  
You allow the ebb and flow of the cosmos to pass unchallenged, and yet you will quietly move a pebble and change the course of the river. It is a universe of chaos, and yet you trust, that in the end, it will work; you believe that freedom will let them make the right decision.  
  
These things you treasure are the things that I despise, and yet I cannot help but envy. 


	5. Navigational Error

Navigational Error  
  
The Dalek ship, piloted by Robopeople, landed. Here they would find the Ultimate Weapon that would finally give them control over All Time and Space.  
  
"Oh dear," commented Robopilot, as the Daleks rolled out of the ship.  
  
"What's wrong?" asked Robocaptain.  
  
"Er...were we supposed to land on the Plain of Reasonable Calm?"  
  
Robocaptain nodded.  
  
"Well, we're actually at the top of the Cliff of Practically Certain Death. Look, there's the cliff edge."  
  
"Surely they'll notice?"  
  
"They're not exactly big on peripheral vision."  
  
Robocaptain looked out the window.  
  
"Ah. Seems you're right." He shrugs. "Oh well. Wanna watch?"  
  
"You got popcorn?" 


	6. Coup d'etat

Coup d'etat  
  
I see the Doctor has been here, spreading his evil.  
  
Yes, I see the smiles, the laughter; it won't last. It never does, you see. That's what he can't possibly understand.  
  
They're rejoicing in newfound freedom, but when they wake tomorrow they'll be lost. They don't know how to rule. This optimism, this joy of theirs will crumble when they find out that the only ones they can blame for their problems now are themselves.  
  
They're cheering for him now, but they'll be screaming soon.  
  
I'll teach them, you see: teach them to remember how good things used to be. 


	7. Sweets

Sweets  
  
It had taken much planning, but her fiendish plot had succeeded. She snuck away from the scene of the crime carrying her paper bag prize.  
  
Later:  
  
The Doctor and Romana are stopped outside the throne room of Dictator Grumm by a gruff guard.  
  
The Doctor approaches with a winning smile and produces a paper bag from his pocket.  
  
The guard looks suspicious.  
  
The Doctor grins more widely.  
  
"Hello," he says reaching into the bag. "Would you like a..." He pulls out a sweet. "...um..." the Doctor falters. "Sherbet lemon?" he asks, recovering.  
  
The guard scowls.  
  
The Doctor pales.  
  
"Oh dear." 


	8. Simple Music

Simple Music  
  
It was such a terribly unloved instrument, his precious recorder. It was unappreciated, abandoned and scorned, so he had adopted it.  
  
He didn't play for beauty: classical purity and romantic grandeur were not for him and his recorder. He played for love: simple, cheerful melodies played spontaneously in a silent moment.  
  
No matter where he went, it went with him: a faithful companion who would never leave him, who could offer comfort in despair, who could lighten anger or fear or inspire his intuition with a few quick notes.  
  
His recorder was his music, and music brought life to everything. 


	9. Sleep

Sleep  
  
"You have to save them," she cried.  
  
"No," he sank to the charred ground. "I don't think so, not this time. I'm feeling a bit tired of all this. Time for the universe to grow up, I think."  
  
"But, Doctor, they need you."  
  
"Bodies, bodies everywhere, but not a drop of blood," he murmured, unfocussed eyes on the horizon. "I'm going to go to sleep now. I'll sleep and the universe will still go on, you'll see."  
  
"You can't, Doctor. You simply can't!"  
  
"Why not!" he demanded, eyes snapping open. "It managed to survive without me for millennia. 


	10. Surprise

Surprise  
  
The Doctor knew there was something wrong the instant he saw K9 wearing a top hat.  
  
He was about to ask K9 if he had noticed anything odd when the door handle began to turn. The Doctor spun around, bulging eyes fixed on the slowly opening door.  
  
And a Cyberman entered the room.  
  
"Ah," said the Doctor, then tried to think of some random nonsense to throw the monster off guard.  
  
"Awfully good, isn't it?" said the Cyberman.  
  
And it pulled of its head.  
  
"Romana...what are you doing?"  
  
"It's K9's birthday, Doctor. I thought we'd have a fancy dress party!" 


	11. Dead Voices

Dead Voices  
  
I do not sleep often, but when I do, I dream.  
  
They are always there: the same faces, the same voices.  
  
My faces, my voices.  
  
Sometimes they are angry; their time past and they covet mine. Occasionally they are magnanimous, whispering advice and warnings. Or they maliciously trail through my memories of death.  
  
They jostle and fight and scream and demand acknowledgment. Snarling, like trapped animals, they struggle for a scrap of consciousness.  
  
They gloat cruelly, reminding me that I will join them.  
  
And when I wake, shaking uncontrollably, I hate them.  
  
And I wish I could forget them all. 


	12. Sceptic

Sceptic  
  
You'd never really think that there would be a lot of traffic in the time- lanes, but you'd be mistaken.  
  
You'd be surprised how many different races accomplish that little feat of being able to travel through time.  
  
You'd be scared how many of them want to take over the universe. And terrified by how many almost succeed in destroying it.  
  
You'd be a bit troubled that it tended to be saved by one individual. But then you'd remember time travel is a silly idea and you don't believe a word I'm saying.  
  
Except that you're about to be proved wrong. 


	13. Wardrobe

Wardrobe  
  
"You're sure this is the right place, Doctor?" asked Romana. It had seemed quite probable that the unremarkable wooden box had been a TARDIS. But that was five minutes ago.  
  
"Oh yes," replied the Doctor, cheerfully tramping through the snow.  
  
"Seems a bit...big."  
  
"It is a TARDIS, Romana."  
  
"You don't think it's a bit cold?"  
  
"Nonsense. Just the environmental controls playing up."  
  
"Well, what about that lamppost?"  
  
"Ah."  
  
"And that fawn?"  
  
"Well..."  
  
"And that rather evil looking witch."  
  
"Maybe...duck Romana!" he shouted as the witch turned her wand on them. The tree behind them turned to stone. They exchanged glances.  
  
"Run!" 


	14. Thirteenth Hour

Thirteenth Hour  
  
A phantom haunts the house with thirteen rooms. Each one filled with the faded shadow of memory, each one containing the twisted corpse of its master.  
  
Save for the last, veiled in darkness. Here the phantom wreaths and twists, whispering its message of death.  
  
The dead masters do not reply, though each acknowledges the phantom in their own way, before attending their guests. Each one knows the final hour is upon them, and soon the house will crumble and all within will perish.  
  
In the final room, the phantom waits by the great clock; waiting for it to strike thirteen. 


	15. Race Memory

Race Memory  
  
They tore down the statues because the people no longer needed a half- remembered legend. Tales of Daleks no longer frightened them; mention of the Doctor no longer inspired them.  
  
All too long ago. Part of the dead memory.  
  
But this did not stop the preacher, who knelt by the fountain and wove marvellous adventures through time and space with his words. There were only a few prepared to kneel at his feet and listen to his vivid descriptions of such antiquated concepts as evil and death and despair. Only a few left to wonder why there were no heroes anymore. 


	16. Extract

Extract  
  
Enter Lord Doctor and Weary Traveller  
  
LORD DOCTOR: Will you rest now, friend?  
  
TRAVELLOR: Lord, I must reach the shores by sunset, else I risk being caught by villains.  
  
LORD DOCTOR: Then we will go on together.  
  
TRAVELLOR: Lord, your energy is boundless.  
  
LORD DOCTOR: It has been said.  
  
TRAVELLOR: (shakes head) I am caught by the beginning and end of my journey. Fear haunts me that hunters will catch my trail. And yours, Lord.  
  
LORD DOCTOR: (pauses) No place binds me, and no time; I am scattered and free.  
  
TRAVELLOR: If only it could be so for us all. 


	17. One Fine Morning

4.21am: Extraterrestrial spaceship orbiting Earth detected. Presumed hostile, though no action taken.  
  
7.30am: Small craft lands twenty miles east of London. Army evacuates civilians from the area.  
  
9.03am: Seven alien craft (described as combat tanks) penetrate perimeter. Communications attempted with invaders: no response.  
  
9.15am: Prime Minister is informed of threat. UNIT ordered to take over army operations in the area.  
  
11.10am: After further attack Parliament dissolved. Government escorted to secure location.  
  
12.05pm: Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart returns from Brussels.  
  
12.30pm: Lethbridge-Stewart assumes command of UNIT and armed forces in threatened area.  
  
1.03pm: Alien invasion repelled.  
  
2.00pm Late lunch. And plenty of tea. 


	18. Ingenuity of Man

She shouldn't be here.  
  
It feels unnatural. It's a ship that travels through space, but there are no windows and no stars for her to watch.  
  
The others, Ian and Barbara, accept this. They don't understand space travel. They don't understand that it shouldn't be so safe, so easy; wrapped in warm white lights and the Doctor's strange wisdom.  
  
Invaders in infinity; she's seen death when the reminders of danger are obvious. How much more difficult in this TARDIS. And how she wishes for the freedom of a world where her survival is met only by the chances of nature. 


	19. Ragnarok Rising

The favoured courtier of the mad god of time walks the labyrinth, dark-haired and stately. These are the corridors of lost time.

She will record it all.

For his thoughts are the new paths that time twists too. He creates the oracles that scream false dreams; the weapons that bring the dead back to life.

This is the universe that does not sleep, and it will take her eternity to record everything that never was. She begins.

And she doesn't remember that the Doctor had not been alright, and all their freedoms had been locked with the Key to Time.


	20. This is a journey

A/N: This and the previous drabble were written in response to a challenge on LJ: "Things that Never Happened."

"I'll go with you," says Grace.

And she'll see silver skies and the beautiful side of paradise. He'll make her cups of tea, and she'll learn how to cook more than pasta. There will be lazy days and quiet wars: blood oozing from one horizon to the other.

They'll save the universe twice in one week.

The next, doctors together on a battlefield of stars, and he'll kiss her when it's over and leaning on each other, they'll stumble back to the TARDIS. The coffee will be strong and bitter, and finished too soon.

And she'll never be happy again.


	21. Finite

_Challenge: The word 'sick.'_

**Finite**

Time infected them all. Slick and insidious and driving them towards death, the pores of the universe were clogged with its presence.

Consequences were irrelevant: the Master had seen the end, and it was a sick, infinitely hot crunch of matter when there was no one left to hear.

So he indulged in all the darkness of his soul, letting his desires have free reign. He no longer cared for power: he wanted destruction. If he did not bring death, the universe would. At least he could take pleasure from the blood the spilt; at least he gave it purpose.


	22. Commiserations On Your Wedding Day

_Challenge: black_

  


**Commiserations On Your Wedding Day **

The bride is dressed in black, and the groom is not the man she married.

"I'm so sorry, my dear," he murmurs as they approached the registrar, as though it's not his fault that people try to kill him, and, occasionally, her.

She wishes that they did not succeed quite so often.

The witnesses are strangers; they see nothing peculiar here. She finds the vague boredom of their expressions a comfort when the man beside her is whispering plans of galactic adventure in her ear.

Still, she insists on this ceremony, her only indulgence of normality in an extraordinary existence.


	23. Single Player Mode

_Challenge: missing  
_

**Single Player Mode (Seventh Doctor) **

The problem with chess was that he always found that so many of the pieces were missing. It made it such a chore to try and set a game up.

Oh, it had the black, the white, and the rules; the conflict, and equal, opposite forces and the grand strategy that so flattered the ego of megalomaniacs; all the things he liked to think he was so terribly good at upsetting.

But it lacked the simple fun of Cluedo, or Scrabble or even the humble Snakes and Ladders.

Until Iceworld, when he found his very first pawn to play with.


	24. Educational, at least

**Educational, at least**_ (The Meddling Monk)_**  
**

The Monk chooses a 1989 class, and takes the role of substitute teacher.

They think he's a bit mad (it's the eighties; he's wearing a habit) but enthusiastic, offbeat ways of teaching keep them interested. Just about.

So he announces a trip; they dutifully follow him into the bus (TARDIS). He claps his hands, as he leaps round the console.

He's surprised he gets them back home in time for dinner.

But didn't go back, after that - head of department, bit strait-laced – but, oh, how he hopes those silly humans managed to grasp some idea of their potential greatness. 


	25. Cannibalism

_Challenge: revenge of the ? _

**Cannibalism** _(Master, Doctor)_

There are dishes served cold, served hot. Secret midnight snacks hidden in the centuries between courses. It is the eternal feast.

Endlessly inventive, the Master is relentless, and the Doctor's appetite is never satisfied. He breakfasts on death, and lunches on danger. No matter, it will never be enough.

The Doctor's chef is a perfectionist, though his flesh is rotting. Peeling away from his bones, it falls into the pots, the oven, releasing a stench of death no amount of spices can disguise. He will be consumed.

For a single betrayal there will be endless preparation for the last supper.


End file.
